Where There's Smoke
by Idiosyncrasy-etric
Summary: Kerry Weaver, a senior ER doctor at County Hospital, leads a happy life with her partner, Sandy Lopez. However, everything changes when an old love, Kim Legaspi, resurfaces.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The majority of characters do not belong to me. They are property of John Wells, Michael Crichton and whatever channel it is that shows ER. The following is separate from ER.

Warning: Facts do not tie in with time-lines, the positions held by staff and the characters present have been taken from different seasons of ER.

Oh, and in my opinion it gets better as it goes along so try not to give-up that quickly!

1

The redhead grinned cheerfully and tucked the wailing baby back down in its cot, "Hey Mr!" The doctor exclaimed, "Doctor Mommy's diagnosis: cranky baby syndrome". She took a minute to lovingly stroke the child's head, "Really, Sandy fusses too much!" Chuckling, she turned from the now-silent baby and limped to the bed, where her crutch lay.

Manoeuvring her arm into the crutch the Chief of the ER picked up a black briefcase and quickly raced for the phone, "Hello?…oh, hi sweetie," the caller was obviously a welcome one for her abrupt tone changed to a soft one, "Really? Again?" Kerry looked over to where Henry wriggled in his crib, "No, no, I'm not angry at you Sandy, it's just that I'm running late…seven…half-six," Kerry stopped, defeated, "I know! I know! But I like to be early, you know that…" As if in agreement Henry let out a friendly squeal and Kerry smiled to herself, "Alright, it's fine, Henry says hi by the way. Oh, and, you can tell your mother that when she's running late she's perfectly able to call me and let me know, not everything has to go through you, you know!…Ok, ok, see you this evening, bye,"

The doctor, who would only be ten minutes early for work at this pace, caringly placed the phone back down onto the receiver. She checked her watch and sighed, but then, seeing Henry, a warm smile erupted on her face. "This is all your fault you know!" Kerry teased lovingly, "If you weren't so damn gorgeous Grandma Lopez would never have wanted to baby-sit in the first place and we could have got someone who'd turn up on time!"

Scooping the squirming baby up into her arms, Kerry adjusted him so he lay against her easily and she could still use her free arm to move the crutch. Her movements were precise and one could easily tell that she had had much practise in these actions.

Making her way down the stairs Kerry chattered confidently to the baby. At home, she was not the formidable woman her work colleagues knew her as. Instead, she was at ease; a stream of unintelligible sounds flowing from her mouth in a fluent conversation with the month-old baby.

"Right, beautiful, there's your Grandma," Kerry explained as the doorbell sounded, "And you remember, Grandma loves you very much, it isn't her fault she's such a bigot!" With Henry giggling and blowing bubbles in one arm Kerry opened the door. A stern face appeared, "Good morning" Kerry greeted.

With no words of greeting and no apologies for her lateness Sandy's mother took immediate hold of the struggling baby, "You shouldn't hold him with one arm," she scolded, "Not when he's this young. You need two good arms. If you walk, you might drop him. And mommy wouldn't be happy then"

Kerry turned so that her expression would not show. There was nothing she'd love more than to attack this old woman for her hateful views but she had to respect Sandy's decisions. Which meant amicable relations. Not that they were even on those terms yet: in the three years they had known each other their relationship had remained tense and cold. Not that Kerry hadn't tried; little did the ER staff know it, but when it really mattered, Kerry was eager to impress. So, she certainly couldn't be blamed for the current hostilities.

"Bye-bye my beautiful," Kerry planted a kiss on Henry's forehead, receiving a disapproving glare, "I'll be home later, okay? Be good for your grandma or no more dummies!"

After issuing warnings about his sleep-deprived state and commenting on the location of various ointments, stuffed animals and teas, Kerry moved to go. As she opened the front door she could hear the old woman cooing delightfully, "You miss your mommy, don't you? That's why you've not slept, you need your mommy to sing to you, Sandy will sing to you later baby, don't worry" It was all she could do to stop herself slamming the door in anger.

The heavy doors of the ER swung open automatically. Kerry was disappointed to see a roomful of patients as she entered the triage area. "Dr Malucci!" The redheaded doctor yelled over the noise of gossiping staff, "Dr. Malucci, what on _earth_ is going on?"

A young doctor was sitting on the floor, nursing a bruised arm. A minute before there had been the 'swoosh' of fabric tearing open as he had flown backwards from a curtained cubical. He looked up, startled, and frowned at the Chief, "Um, I think we'll need security in there," he admitted.

Kerry shook her head and sighed. Then, dropping her briefcase onto the admittance desk she marched into the cubical. Pained expressions were seen on Dave's face as a series of, "Ow!"s, "Ouch!"s and "Hey!"s echoed from behind the curtains and then a triumphant Kerry marched out again. "I think he'll be a little more co-operative now," Kerry informed the floored doctor, "Oh, and you might need to accompany him to suturing,"

Ignoring the protests Kerry grabbed up her briefcase, which, had it remained a moment longer on the cheap desk, would surely have disappeared into the chaos of the ER. "Frank, who's the attending on duty?" without waiting for a reply her eyes had scanned the board, "Kovac!" She screamed out, "Kovac!"

A tall Croatian doctor appeared from the lounge, complete with thick winter coat. "What can I say?" he followed her gaze to the room-full of patients, "We come in, it's empty, you come in…you'll get rid of them all, leave, and five minutes later it'll be full again." He grinned mischievously, "But my shifts officially over, so, see you in twelve hours,"

Kerry shook her head and issued off a series of orders to anyone who happened to walk by: "Mr Grayling requires suturing, but not immediately; Jonathan Rivers was here when I checked out, get him up to radiology straight away; the woman with a sprained ankle in 4 can go home already; why the delay on the abuse case? Phone social services again or go drag them down, either will do; Abby you have to see your patients faster than this, go discharge cubical 4; who's in exam room 2? Shut-them up Yosh; Frank, I'll be in my office, just forward any calls – and I expect this place to be cleared by the time I come down!" With a last thought, "bleep me for any traumas," and she disappeared into an elevator.

Away from the trauma of the ER, life was much quieter for Kerry Weaver. Relaxing in her office chair, she surveyed the pile of paperwork that awaited her. A grim but determined expression entered her face. Even paperwork didn't seem such a gruelling task when she knew just who would be waiting for her on her return from work that evening.

The proud photo-frame that displayed her two most loved ones caught her attention and her face lit-up with a huge grin. She thought suddenly of Mark Greene, he would never have predicted her this happy, with a family, she thought, and then she frowned as she remembered the one he had left behind.

"They're happy Mark, don't worry," she whispered into the surrounding air. Mark had been a good friend to her. He might never have called her a friend, but he had been there for her in her times of weakness, when she was fragile, always supporting her as she tried to gain control. Well, she had betrayed him a few times, but it had worked out okay. And…she may not have been invited to his wedding but…Kerry's mind faltered. She hadn't been the best of friends to him, she had to admit, but they had had a mutual relationship of respect, she was sure, and she tried to do her best for Elizabeth now Mark no longer could. "sorry," she whispered, and felt more comfortable in the accepting office.

All at once, the phone rang, piercing the silence with a high-pitched squeal. Kerry grabbed it up immediately, "What?" she barked. "Who?" Her stomach fluttered and she clutched the receiver fiercely, "You're…you're sure?" Green eyes, misty with confusion, gazed out of the window, trying to make sense of this news, "Okay, put her through,"

There was a gap of what seemed like eternity as Kerry sat, suspended in time. In a room full with the evidence of promotion; at a desk that proudly displayed photos of her new family; in a life where everything had changed since her regretful betrayal, Kerry's world turned upside down.

At last, there was a muffled click. Kerry's stomach churned, her heart throbbed, her pulse beat wildly and her throat ached. Her mouth forced itself open, "Kim?"


	2. Chapter 2

2

Sighing deeply, Kerry reached over her desk for the following month's ER timetable. It was a true representation of the various threats she had issued over the past couple of weeks. Malucci didn't have a weekend off for the entire month and poor Jerry was on night-shifts following a certain incident with a banana peel. Much as she would normally enjoy seeing her words come to action though, her mind would not remain on the timetable: instead it flickered between total obscurity and enormous self-doubt she had previously not known existed within her.

Abby was on next Monday…she really should make herself free that day…she'd like to see how the young med student was coming along. She'd heard so much conflicting information about the woman's switch from nursing to 'real medicine' that she had decided a while ago that she should definitely go down and see for herself. Then, if it was necessary, she could appoint Abby a real mentor, or alternatively…Kim…

Leaning forward so that her growing red hair fell down to cover her face, Kerry began to slowly massage her temples. She had to face it; she couldn't keep her mind on the job. And in this state, she was no use to anyone. Raising her head and gazing longingly at the phone she wished with all her heart that it would ring again. On any normal day Kerry would curse the sharp vibrations that erupted with bad news, but today, her one longing was to hear that voice again…their brief conversation had left Kerry feeling utterly vulnerable and completely weak, though yearning for more. Like an addict, Kerry thought, and she had to laugh. An emotional addict. Maybe she could write up a research study for a medical journal – herself as the main evidence. It could be titled, "Drugs aren't the only psychological addictive…tall, blonde, psychiatrists are too." Her staff would have a field-day. If only Romano were still alive to see it.

With a sudden shock, Kerry realised that in fact, the voice on the phone would be welcomed whether it was Sandy or Kim. And that, she thought, might make all the difference. Her flickering mind swayed once again, to an image of little Henry just that morning. "Mommy will love you for ever and ever" The words seemed haunting now, almost like a jinx. As did Grandma Lopez' attitude. Startled that there was so much about Kim's current life Kerry knew so little about she wondered if Kim had a child…a partner…a lover. Kerry shook her head. Ok, time to get out of this death-trap of a hospital. Some fresh air was required for the clearing of her mind. Maybe a visit to the voluntary Robert Romano Centre for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Trans-gendered Health-care.

But first…much as Kerry required a fresh environment, she couldn't risk missing the psychiatrist. Picking up the phone nervously, for there may be an incoming call that very minute, she had Jerry on the line in a second, "Yes, could you please forward any calls for me to my cell," she instructed, and then an obligatory, "I'm going out for the rest of the day."

The fresh December air did nothing to help the state of Dr. Weaver's mind. If anything, walking past the flashing Christmas lights, displays of cosy corners filled with presents, the squealing children wrapped around parents' backs and loud, mechanic Santa Clauses, only heightened Kerry's awareness even more. Her mind was a-buzz with hyper memories, exaggerated memories, misleading memories.

Unaware where her feet were leading her, Kerry aimlessly wandered through the snow-covered roads, her coat buttoned high against the wind, her face smudged red with the cold and the tears. The vibrating pager in her pocket was nothing compared to what had just happened in her own life and the urgent beckoning was only ignored. Twice, Kerry's feet took her to Kim's old flat and twice her brain led her away again.

At one point in Kerry's wanders she found herself suddenly at _The Velvet Iris_, the very restaurant where Kerry and Kim had experienced their first 'not-a-date-date'. Kerry smiled at her own shock, her denial when Kim had confessed her belief that the meal was in fact a date. "I'm not gay" Kerry had explained, flustered and confused. How could it be that Kim, a close friend and a woman, could find herself attracted to Kerry when Kerry was stubbornly Not Gay. Anything But Gay. Divorced, even. It hadn't made sense. In Kerry's closed mind there could be no possibility of such an event occurring. For gay women were only attracted to other gay women, right? And Kerry was definitely Not Gay.

Her mind engaging with her surroundings for the first time in her walk, Kerry looked up unbelievingly at the warmly-lit restaurant. The purple paint was beginning to peel a little and looked a tiny bit shabby yet still welcoming in general. Kerry was suddenly and painfully aware that she had had nothing to eat for over a day; she had planned to grab a croissant at work but had been interrupted in that intention almost on arrival at County General.

Ignoring the muscles that clenched in her stomach Kerry held up a snow-patterned arm and pushed open the door. A hot burst of air greeted her. Kerry's eyes streamed in the sudden exposure and she blinked several times. The restaurant was small and informal and no waiter rushed to greet her. Kerry took a step forward and her eyes surveyed the room. The purple walls provided a relaxing background and the small tables suggested this restaurant was indeed a place for couples or individuals. She was surprised her mind could remember so many details but it definitely looked as though the arrangement of tables had changed from five years previously. A waiter noticed Kerry and she was seated in a moment, a menu in front of her, wine at the ready. Curiously, Kerry viewed the other customers. Two women sat opposite each other by the window and an older woman sat reading a book a few tables from herself.

Five years ago the restaurant had been a lot more busy, but then, it had been later in the evening. The strictly straight red-head and the feminine blonde must have been an unnoticeable sight in _The Velvet Iris_, a thought Kerry now smiled at as she remembered the first few months of quiet fear – would someone spot her? Would someone care? Did they look that inconspicuous? Did they stand out so severely?

By the time Kerry had finished her meal of vegetarian lasagne her mind was somewhat calmer. Kim had called her. Kim had wanted to meet. Kim hadn't made contact in half a decade. Ok then, she realised this had to be something serious but the main point was Kerry was happily married with a beautiful baby son and an equally beautiful wife.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" Kerry, absorbed by her own thoughts had barely noticed the passing of darkness and filling of the restaurant in the time since she'd arrived. Looking around her now, she realised that the room was indeed busy with the buzz of conversation and every table was full. Winter evenings must fill up restaurants faster than summer, for it couldn't be past six. Looking up, she glanced over the speaker. An Asian woman with masses of black curly hair littered with white flakes of snow. Obviously, she had only just entered, probably looking for a warm place to battle out the snow and a hot meal, like Kerry an hour previously.

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry…I'll be leaving soon anyway" Kerry answered, blushing slightly with the accidental meeting.

"Oh no, please, you don't have to leave on account of me! I just wanted to try their special of the day, not to cause any trouble," the woman was loud but cheerful and the chair opposite Kerry groaned as it was pulled back roughly and thrust under the table again with some weight now included, "I'm Maria, by the way"

"Kerry," Two arms moved forwards and hands momentarily clasped. Then, a menu was opened and conversation ceased.

"Well," started Kerry, folding her napkin for the hundredth time since the woman had appeared, "I'd better be asking for the bill now." Kerry's head moved in position, searching out the waiter, now severely over-worked.

"Well you won't be finding a waiter for at least half-an-hour," Maria smiled, "please, I don't want to drive you away, you looked perfectly comfortable before. Allow me to buy you a drink – something hot, or alcoholic, or," Maria slid the drinks menu forward across the table, "something both,"

Kerry found herself smiling at the attitude of this younger woman, and couldn't help agreeing to the request. "Okay then, if you insist I'll stay for one more drink, but it's going on my bill," she added sternly.

"Fine with me, I don't want to shake-up any marriages"

"Marriages?"

"Kerry, you're here alone in the early evening. You're wearing a commitment ring, am I right? You _look_ visibly upset about something and you've been shredding that napkin since I arrived. You're in a pretty serious relationship is my guess, and much as I'd love to ask you out one evening, I'm not wanting to jeopardise anything you've got going"

"That easy to tell, huh?" Kerry asked, her spirits being continuously yanked up and down.

Maria smiled sympathetically, "Look, it's probably not my place to ask, but are you okay? If you need to talk, please do. And don't worry about me. My flat-mate's a psychology student, I'm used to both the talking and the listening."

"Well thanks, but I'm really not in the mood for psycho-analysis just right now," Kerry hoped her comment would be taken lightly; Maria seemed sweet and jokey enough, but a little young for Kerry's weary problems.

"Don't worry – my flat-mat's the psychologist, not me! I'm just a doc in training. We don't listen to the psychological concerns a lot. I could probably name your physical complaints, but our policy is mostly of the 'treat 'em, street 'em' variety. I won't be able to actually help," dropping the bubbly tone Maria became more serious at once, "just listen"

Kerry wondered how this Maria would ever survive in a hospital environment. Shrugging it off she shook her head sadly, "Thanks Maria, you've really done enough already. I'd better be getting home now." She pulled some notes out of her wallet and placed them carefully on the table. "That should certainly cover my bill, and that drink we never had – get one for the next young lady who sits down here." Pulling her scarf tight around her neck Kerry's fingers curled reassuringly round the handle of her crutch, "Goodbye,"

"Well thanks for putting up with me for this long. Kerry – just remember you love her. The answers should come from that," Kerry stared at Maria for a moment, then, nodding her head, she turned and pushed out into the cold dark night.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Stamping her feet twice, to shake the white fluff from the soles, Kerry turned her key in the lock. It was seven O'clock and she was home from work a little early. Not that it had been work she'd attended the rest of the afternoon, but wandering the streets of Chicago and dinner with a young med student.

If only Kerry had realised who she was by Maria's age, Kerry reminisced forlornly. How much easier life could have been. Whoever, or whatever came her way she'd have been ready for it, and not live now, with so many regrets.

Pushing into the warm house, a stream of hot air greeted Kerry immediately. Her face flushed crimson in the heat and she felt her coat begin to melt. "Honey, I'm home!" Taking several steps forward Kerry shrugged off her coat and flung it in front of a steaming hearth. In Chicago December nights Kerry was particularly fond of her antique fireplace.

A cluttering of pans was heard in the kitchen and then a bitter voice, "Sandy will be late _home_ tonight. There's been a problem on the EL"

"Oh?" Kerry moved towards the kitchen, "Did she say how late?" Stony silence was the answer. "Well maybe I could go pick her up…where's the phone?" Kerry asked, noticing the missing handset. Sandy's mother nodded with clear distaste towards the table and Kerry picked up the object. Dialling the number from memory Kerry held the phone for a few rings and then placed it back down when a recorded message greeted her.

"Well I can't get through to her, maybe she's on it already," Kerry informed her partner's mother, "Thank you very much for your extra time. I can take it from here though – is he asleep?"

"Baby is asleep. I don't think he'd like to wake-up with me gone and Sandy not home yet. I'll stay for a while."

Feeling her anger grow Kerry tried her hardest to bite her tongue. "Well I'll just go check up on him," as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Mrs Lopez had squeezed past Kerry and was half-way up the stairs. Sighing, Kerry followed.

"Hey, babala, Ms Weaver woke you up coming in? Should be quiet for baby, yes, yes," Mrs Lopez cooed to the wailing baby.

"Actually, we would have heard on the baby monitor. Henry only just woke, didn't you sweetheart?" Kerry responded. Holding out her arms for her son all memory of Kim was erased for the time-being, and Kerry was caught firmly in the present.

"Hello?" A voice sounded up the stairs. Throwing one last look at the older woman Kerry turned and made her way back down. "Hi darling, suicide on the lines I'm guessing,"

Kerry embraced the tall, dark slender woman in a warm hug as her partner laughed and told her not to; she'd get wet. "Here, let me get that for you," gingerly removing Sandy's coat Kerry placed it carefully beside her own, which was now crispy in the heat.

"Mom? What are you doing still here?" Sandy asked, surprised, as her mother walked slowly down the stairs with Henry in tow.

"Sandy, Sandy!" The woman mumbled something in Spanish, "You phone and ask me to stay for you to get back. Now, you act surprised! You do not even remember a phone-call to your mother?"

"Well, y-es," Sandy's tone showed impatience already with the situation, "I wanted you to stay for Henry, but I didn't expect Kerry would be back already," turning to address Kerry briefly Sandy smiled, "you're back early. Mama, you could have left when Kerry got home, as long as Henry wasn't by himself,"

"Oh, you ask so much of me. I look after him all day and I deliver him to a blood stranger? No, no no, Sandy! Sometimes, I really worry how you raise this child," the woman pushed the tight bundle that was Henry into Sandy's arms. "Sandy, you need to learn what is best for your son – family."

Deciding that in this scenario, actions were stronger than words, Sandy turned and held the calm child out to her lover, Kerry. Kissing the redhead affectionately Sandy turned back to her mother, "Thank you for being here, mama, you did want to, remember? It would be easy to get a nanny if you're having any difficulties,"

"Sandy!" The tone was clipped in warning.

"Yes mama?"

"Ooch! The rudeness of children," the old woman could see her time was up and was busy buttoning her own thick coat.

"Would you like me to drive you home mother?" Sandy volunteered.

"You trust me with your son, but not with a bus? No, Sandy, I am not yet so old. And not yet so old to be treated with contempt. I raised you, and I know what is best."

"Yes, mother, and I'm raising Henry the best I know how, which is with all the love and care in our hearts,"

"Goodbye Sandy, I'll see you on Thursday. You are bringing Henry to Antonio's anniversary?"

"Mother, we've talked about this before…"

"Very well, goodnight,"

Kerry, sensing the finalities of the conversation addressed her communicatory politeness now, "Goodnight Mrs Lopez, safe journey,"

All that was heard from the old woman was a tutting under her breath and the front door slammed shut. Sandy turned to Kerry, "I feel bad letting her go like that,"

"I know, sweetie, but if she'd rather go alone…"

"I know, I know! I just…I wish things weren't so difficult between you two. I don't want Henry to grow up with all this."

Kerry kissed her sleepy son, "Well, I try my best you know. I've never been anything but civil. It's not my fault the woman is homophobic,"

"Kerry, please. She's old, she's traditional, she's set in her ways. She just doesn't understand and she's too damn stubborn to allow herself to! Lets not speak bad of her; I'm happy enough she even wants to know me. After the way my father was I'm happy all I got from her is denial."

"Well it's hardly pleasant for me either! I get home and she refuses to leave until you get here. Do you know what she said to me last Saturday? She told me I'd never mean anything to Henry, she said that I was a repulsive example to have around her grandson and that he would grow-up thinking all sorts of immoral things!" Kerry's anger with Mrs Lopez now poured out of her, only at Sandy instead.

"Kerry, honey, most likely Henry won't want to see his old grandma by the time he's ten. I make my own sacrifices, you know. I'm missing out on Antonio's anniversary for you. I didn't attend Maya's wedding…It's not only you having trouble,"

"Well it would be nice if you could speak-up for me sometimes. I don't even understand why we have to have her babysit – there's plenty of better-qualified nannies out there to hire, trained in all these environments,"

"Oh, so this comes down to money again? You're disappointed I don't want to pay for a stranger to care for my own child? She's his grandmother Kerry!"

"Well I'm his mother!"

The argument had reached shouting level now and the baby boy was wailing. The two women's eyes met and Kerry looked away quickly, afraid to share too much.

"Kerry…" Sandy's voice was barely audible now, "Kerry, this is what she wants. Let's not argue. You know how important my family is to me, I can't lose them. Not now."

Kerry blinked back tears, "And you know everything I've given-up for this relationship. Everything I've been through to get us to this point. The uphill struggle I've endured since I first met you. The baby _I _lost. Would she even have wanted to know her? No."

"Kerry, please. Lets not go there. We have Henry, please,"

"Go where? My pain? My suffering?" Henry was still screaming and both women were speaking in whispers. Kerry's self-control was enormous and her face showed no signs of her trauma within.

"Kerry, Kerry please."

"That, that _woman_ would take him away from both of us if she had half a chance. And she wouldn't be volunteering to babysit if he hadn't come out of _your_ body"

"Well he did Kerry, so that's too bad. You've got to accept that."

Kerry stared at Sandy. She couldn't believe the words she had just heard.

"Kerry, Kerry no! I didn't mean that! Kerry please…Kerry!" but the bathroom door was shut and locked and Kerry leant back against it in anguish, the sound of the taps on full-power closing out Sandy's pleading. She knew she had caused the argument, she knew Sandy hadn't meant to hurt her, she _knew_ she could have stopped it at any point. But as her head dipped low and her anguish finally poured forth behind the privacy of a locked door, Kerry wasn't sure what she was really crying for; a relationship present or a relationship past. After all, her collected character disallowed Kerry from showing any hurt visibly and it was only now, after five years, that she found herself in mourning for her first lust and her current love.


	4. Chapter 4

4

The alarm let off a low buzz, and Kerry rolled sleepily onto her side, "Mmmm, Sandy?" Kerry's arm reached out and patted the empty bed beside her. Frowning, and blinking heavily, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. The room was empty of human life except for herself.

Slowly, Kerry manoeuvred her legs out of and over the bed, until she was sitting on the edge. Pushing her feet into waiting slippers, one arm reached for a crutch leaning by the side of the bed whilst the other fumbled with her glasses which lay on a nearby table. Able, now, to stand and move fluently, Kerry walked hesitantly to the bedroom door, and pushed a hand forwards so that the door swung open and she was facing an empty hall.

"Sandy?" Kerry called in the bathroom's direction. A sudden blast of music screamed from down the stairs. Swiftly, Kerry moved towards the stairs, and walked down to the lower floor. The kitchen was lit by bright, brutal lights, and Kerry could see a gurgling Henry in highchair, as she approached the room.

"Oh, hey!" Sandy, who a minute earlier has been tossing pancakes to the grinning Henry's delight, now turned and flashed a large smile at Kerry. Kerry frowned and one bony arm whipped out, a hand twisting with the radio's knobs until there was silence. "Sorry, was the noise disturbing you?" Without giving Kerry adequate time to answer, Sandy continued her stream, "Only Henry enjoys it so much. You should have seen him, kicking away. That boy will be such a mover when he's older! He loves the tunes. We really should get him more of those musical toys, you know the ones. Hopefully ones that will shut-up though, so that little devil there doesn't get to torture us night and day!"

Sandy's constant flow of dialogue didn't cease, even as she piled pancakes onto a china plate, and placed it down on the table. Though Kerry stood awkwardly next to Henry's chair, Sandy didn't seem to acknowledge the mood of the kitchen; instead, her speech was perhaps a means to cover-up Kerry's silence.

"I've made enough for a proper breakfast. I know you don't usually eat well, and you really should Kerry. You need the energy for work! I bet you tell your patients to eat a big, nutritious breakfast, well that's what I'm doing for you." A strand of hair fell over Sandy's face and a quivering hand brushed it away quickly. "Jelly or syrup? You can have both if you want. I've been trying not to let Henry get his hands on the jelly though, do you remember the last time? A disaster!" a nervous laugh filled the room, but Kerry continued to stand silent.

"Here you go then, enjoy!"

Plates were full now, Henry tranquil and Sandy seated. For one quick moment, her mouth dropped open again – on the verge of letting out another stream of fast words, but then Sandy just stopped and sat still. Kerry's eyes met her lover's and a shared understanding passed between them.

"I'm sorry," The words were pointless. They didn't get to the real issue, they didn't resolve any problems or admit any feelings. They were just a symbol of society's politeness. Sandy rose, "I've already circled some names, for Henry. It won't be immediate though Kerry."

"No,"

"Well, it's a start."

Henry squirmed in his chair and Sandy, thankful for a legitimate diversion, turned and fussed over him for a minute.

Kerry was still standing alert by the wall. Every muscle in her body was strained and tense, she wouldn't let herself relax for a moment. This was her life. This was her family. This was her job. She couldn't allow anything to change. She couldn't be thrown back into uncertainty. She needed this stability so nobody could see her weakness.

Sandy stood and moved to the sink. She fiddled with a dishcloth, twisting it harshly with her hands. Suddenly, she moved towards Kerry. In a fumbled movement the two were embracing, tightly and closely.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Sandy buried her head deep in Kerry's comforting hold. The two were pressed together so that every point of their body touched, one shape, one being.

Breaking away first, Kerry moved gingerly and sat down at the table. "These look amazing," she commented, as she reached for a jar of jelly.

"That's me; domestic goddess!" Sandy joked, joining Kerry again at the table.

"Well I'm glad one of us can cook at least, I may have to learn soon,"

"Oh heck, leave it to me. After all, I certainly don't let things burn. My job just wouldn't permit that."

The friendly banter held no secret strain, no signs of inner turmoil. Instead, it seemed every bit the normal family breakfast as Kerry smiled at Sandy and chewed her first mouthful of pancake.

"So, how was work yesterday?" Sandy asked, tickling Henry as she spoke.

The lie came quickly and easily, "Normal really. Patients and more patients. Along with paperwork, and, oh, more. Sometimes you could just wish for another helicopter!" Sandy chortled and Kerry rolled her eyes. Kim had not, at any moment, left her mind, but she seemed distinctly separate from this suburban utopia she had carved out for herself.

"So, equally busy today do you reckon?" Sandy asked kindly.

"Oh, I guess so. It never really ceases to be. Actually, I believe God invented snow as a break for all the doctors,"

"Then the devil came along and ice was your downfall?" Sandy responded energetically.

"Well let's just hope the roads aren't too bad today. I'm working an ER shift, so, if it's quiet I can get more paperwork done at the same time."

"Oh Kerry, you really do too much! Please take it easy, promise me. You need some entertainment other than work!"

Kerry smiled to herself, "Yes, well, work can be a great distraction sometimes. And the non-doctoring work can often be harder than the paid stuff,"

Sandy, mistakenly thinking she was this hard personal struggle fell quiet and silence loomed once again. Realising the effect of her comment, Kerry quickly fought to keep the conversation going, changing the subject and captivating her wife.

For twenty minutes Kerry managed to gather all the charm she knew she possessed – although her staff referred to her as many a nasty thing, she wouldn't be where she was today if she wasn't able to selflessly entertain at times. By the time Sandy and son were buttoned up, the two women were affectionately hugging and waving goodbye. Both knew that the conflict remained beneath the surface, but neither was a fool and there was no inclination to risk what they did have.

"Ok, I'll see you tonight then," Kerry called as Sandy pushed open the front gate.

"Have a good day at work honey!" was the reply, and with that, Kerry shut the heavy door on the swirling snow and retreated back inside.

The house now seemed eerily quiet. She no longer had the squeals of a baby to distract her mind. To anybody else the scene could now be the home of single woman. Or perhaps, a woman and her psychiatrist girlfriend. No family need live here. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, and concentrating her sight on the baby high-chair to do so, Kerry hobbled back into the kitchen. She started to wash up, scrubbing viciously at the breakfast plates. After she had completed her task, she took a guilty glance out of the window and then picked up the house phone. The hospital's speed-dial was the priority 'number 1' and within ten seconds Kerry was connected to County.

"Hi, it's Kerry Weaver," there was a pause, "Yeah, I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to make it in today….tell him it's a family problem. Ok…yes, thank you…bye".


	5. Chapter 5

5

"So, you visiting a relative?" The cab driver swivelled in his chair to peer at his passenger. Kerry wished he would stay in the driving position – his constant twists made her anxious in case of a crash, plus, she wasn't in a very chatty mood.

"No, an old friend," Kerry answered, thankful that the driver's hands were once again placed firmly on the steering wheel.

"Oh, they're the best kind of visits – plenty to talk about," the driver commented amicably.

'Maybe too much' Kerry thought to herself, but merely offered a, "I guess so," to the driver.

"We're just a couple of roads away now, won't be long. "

"Do you mind stopping here? I'll pay the full fare…" Kerry started fumbling in her purse. A minute later she was alone on a deserted New York sidewalk. She had wanted to walk this last section. It seemed appropriate somehow, travelling to meet her own fate. And hey, it also gave her time to turn back, to think again, to force herself into honouring her family.

It was slightly warmer here, in New York, than at home in Chicago, and there clearly hadn't been as much snow. It was good for Kerry – snow could make walking with a crutch quite difficult at times.

She remembered the address by heart, of course. After two months of silence, an almost desperate communication had started between the two women. Both were too stubborn to change the situation though, and the flurry of letters had ceased as soon as Kim dared to confront Kerry's denial again.

Now though, years had passed with no communication. Every Christmas and birthday brought the expected disappointment when Kerry failed to spot Kim's elegant handwriting on an arty card. Kim had no idea about Kerry's family, and Kerry had no idea why Kim had called. Hell, Kim had been the first one Kerry wanted to tell when Henry was born – at that point she was happy. She wanted to share her joy, to show Kim people could change, to show her the beautiful little boy she had helped create. Now though, the longing was different. It wasn't the same sexual lust that Kerry had struggled with years before. Neither was it the love that had developed from that. Right now, Kerry was anxious to know what was wrong, because something had to be, and Kim didn't deserve any pain.

Kerry had turned onto Kim's street. Her eyes took in the surroundings. The street was made up of pretty little houses, almost in a quaint British Victorian style. Very Kim. She could imagine living here with Kim, had the past turned out differently. Searching out her destined number, Kerry finally gazed at the red door of her fate.

There was no answer to Kerry's knock. Ringing the bell brought no signs of life either. Resisting the urge to peer into the living room window, Kerry managed to make it down the steps and back out onto the street. She had been foolish, really; why had she expected that Kim would be in? Though she herself had skipped work, Kim would probably be counselling a damaged teenager this very minute. That's right, for Kerry knew that Kim cared about her work and her patients. There was no way she'd be letting down those that needed her. Aware that she was building Kim's image closer to 'saint' than she really was, Kerry shook her head from side to side and started towards the end of the street again.

Maybe this was it, her journey's end. If Kim wasn't in, should Kerry now return home, forget this ever happened? She had been saved the tears that seemed inevitable. Or, should she wait in a coffee shop for a few hours and try again in the evening. Knowing that she only had one true choice, Kerry turned for a final look at her friend's home.

At that moment, the red door seemed to disappear and a woman stepped out of the house. She had short dark hair, and regardless of her appearance Kerry's body knew it wasn't Kim. Were it, she was sure to have melted at once.

Following behind the first woman, however, there now appeared a figure that caused Kerry's stomach to do a triple somersault. Her mouth fell open as though she wished to shout, to gain visibility. But she felt she could not move, only watch.

Kim didn't look like she had been counselling a distressed teenager; she was wearing only a plain white dressing gown, and the lion's mane Kerry loved so much was flattened down by the weight of water.

Kim and the mystery woman now turned and embraced. Kerry felt dead watching. Had there been a kiss? She couldn't even remember by the time she quickly turned round to hide herself from the approaching stranger. Unable, still, to move, she stood silently in the cold street. A minute later, the dark-haired woman had passed her by, with no sign of any care, only a brisk pace and she had turned the corner.

This was all it took for Kerry to realise she should never have come. She had been kidding herself! She wasn't here to see if Kim was ok, she was here because she had an excuse to be. After so many years of waiting Kerry could seem as though she was being sacrificial for Kim's cause, rather than being merely selfish. She shouldn't be feeling jealous at a woman exiting her ex's house. Kerry knew she loved Sandy. She loved Sandy more than she had ever loved Kim, of course she did. So why was she here? And why did she feel like this?

"Kerry?"

Kim was by her side. She had apparently thrown a thick coat over her gown and come out on sighting Kerry. The soft voice made Kerry outwardly tremble. She had no response.

"Kerry, what are you doing here?"

Closing her eyes, Kerry breathed in deeply. She turned to face Kim, "I'm sorry,".

"What?"

"I never should have come!"

"Kerry-"

"Sorry," Kerry shrugged Kim's gentle hand off of her arm and took a few steps backwards.

"Kerry, wait!" the wet hair and long coat gave Kim an air of vulnerability, and Kerry hated to be responsible for hurting her, but she had no choice.

"I can't…you know that…" Kerry looked apologetically at the confused woman and shook her head, her voice full of emotion.

"What you saw, it isn't…it's not…"

"Please, please just go back inside," Kerry pleaded, and turned her back to the woman. She started to walk, quickly. She was afraid she looked as though she was running. Had Kim called, had she shouted after her, "No, don't go!" Kerry probably would have turned back immediately. But the call didn't come, and soon Kerry was again in the back of a cab, on route to the airport, silently shaking and crying inside.


	6. Chapter 6

6

"Dr. Weaver, could you sign off on my kid in 6? I'm sending him up to intensive immediately,"

Kerry stopped writing and pressed her hand to her head: it was busy today and the young residents didn't have the confidence to leave her undisturbed for more than three minutes at a time. "Have you got the labs back?"

"No, but-"

"Well wait. It might not be the obvious cause. Have you even looked into other suspect conditions, let alone treatments?"

"Well, it just seems like a classic case…"

"Show me the history," a thin wad of paper was handed dutifully to Kerry. She took a minute to survey it, her expert eyes not even pausing to check anything twice, "This isn't completed. Diet, - ate eggs for breakfast – go back, fill this in properly, you might find some more clues before you waste other people's time,"

"Yes, sorry Doctor,"

"Remember, you have your own students now – how can you expect them to learn when your own histories aren't even competent? Come on, this is first year stuff, first week even! Now, go." The scared resident hurried off before Kerry could embarrass him more.

Now Kerry was free. Except, that that word was never a definition of anything but death in a busy Chicago ER. She knew that she'd be taking her paperwork home with her tonight; poor Henry, he'd probably have forgotten what she looked like in another week's time. She wasn't even supposed to be working in the ER today, but a flu virus was slowly snaking its way around the ground floor and two doctors were off-sick already. She should really be concentrating on getting this year's damned budget to work, but hey, that never happened anyway and at least this way she could try and minimise the current six hour waiting period.

Kerry threw her pen back onto the table. She'd been working seven hours now without any food. "Jerry, I'm just going to go get some quick lunch. Try not to let things collapse while I'm gone."

Picking herself up quickly, Kerry managed to make the ten steps to the lift without arrest. Just before she had managed to press the flashing button, though, a child landed with a thump at her feet.

"Sorry!" a bright red mother wailed, dragging the boy back up again and gripping onto him ferociously as he tried to wriggle free.

"Oh, Danny, come back!" Abby appeared with a thermometer in one hand and a baby in the other (or, at least, wrapped in one arm).

Kerry didn't even have enough energy to bark an order; though a teething Henry might keep her up at night, she was convinced he'd never turn out like some of the brats that rich foolish parents dragged in here every day of the week.

"He's not even the sick one!" the mother turned to Kerry with large eyes and a helpless expression, before a coughing fit came over her and Abby gently lead her back to a room.

The lift doors opened and several more people rushed out to join the hoards already gathered in the ER. Kerry stepped in, alone, and leant back, eager to enjoy the twenty seconds solitary confinement the lift ever so occasionally offered her.

By floor five, Kerry has been joined by two doctors, one nurse and a family of five. By floor ten, she was squashed right at the back, certain that the maximum weight had been surpassed, and barely able to squirm forwards to get out of the lift. Luckily though, her floor was the cafeteria, and everyone knew that the lifts were generally quiet again past that miracle floor. This meant that the lift did empty enough for Kerry to join the exiting flood, and she made it to the cafeteria unscathed.

After paying for a bacon baguette and a cup of strong, black coffee (Irish, she wished), Kerry decided that it wasn't entirely selfish to enjoy them quietly herself. If she went back to the ER she'd only have to abandon them immediately, as a trauma pulled through the doors, and that would mean more wasted time later on in the day. Besides, wasn't medicine supposed to get easier as you got higher? Less hours, more pay? If anything, Kerry had only felt increasingly guilt as she worked her way up, a result of the awareness that her missing skills might subject someone to death when they might otherwise have been saved.

Settling back in a plastic chair, Kerry started to devour her late lunch. Her eager ears were able to pick up individual conversations from the buzz around her. At the table to the left, Kerry could, if she chose, find out all about the dating disasters of a young blonde pharmacist. Behind her, a husband and wife argued bitterly over how an old relative's estate should be split. Another couple within her eyesight sat merely with the dependent look of powerless parents. Next to them, a doctor was treating a ten-year-old to a chocolate brownie (what was her poor family going through at this very instance?) and two teenagers giggled on Kerry's right.

Standing, and joining the small queue to tidy away trays (most people didn't bother, truth be told), Kerry gulped down the last of her coffee. She hadn't been paged yet – that was a good sign - although she wondered whether the waiting time would have increased by just one or two hours?

"I know, it's rather ironic, isn't it?"

"And annoying,"

In such close proximity, Kerry was now trying hard not to listen to the conversation of the two adults in front of her. It felt more like eaves-dropping now she didn't have anything else to do but wait.

"But I guess you just have to go where the specialists are,"

"Well it's a good hospital anyway; Kizza always said she was lucky to be here."

"Equally lucky surely, patient or staff,"

"Mmmm, I just hope she's ok with it,"

"I'm sure she has bigger worries now!"

The two moved off and Kerry pushed back her tray and threw her empty cup and wrapper in the bin. The clock above the door informed her it was half-past three, she couldn't been away from the ER for more than ten minutes at the most meaning she had time for a quick toilet stop before she returned.

Entering the toilets, Kerry passed the man who had queuing in front of her. He was waiting patiently by the door, looking calm. He seemed vaguely recognisable, but then, so did nearly everyone Kerry came across in the hospital. A porter maybe? A cleaner?

Pushing open the door, Kerry nearly collided with a similarly-aged woman with short dark cropped hair, "Sorry!" she exclaimed as the woman also apologised. Kerry drew back and looked at the woman, she knew her; there was no doubt. But before she could say anything, the man from the cafeteria had smiled at Kerry and turned to the woman, "Ready? We'd better get this over with…", taken her arm and the two had walked off.

Kerry turned and looked after them. A name rang in her head – Kristy. Playful, flirty Kristy, the woman Kerry had once been introduced to by Kim, another early lesbian associate, one of Kim's exes. And the man? She searched her brain. Maybe that's how she knew him; through Kim. But that made no sense. What were the chances of that? Okay, so Kristy lived in the Chicago area, it made perfect sense that she might be visiting in hospital. None of this had to be connected to Kim. But then, what had they been talking about in the cafeteria again? A patient, here, surely. They had mentioned irony, hadn't they? Why would it be ironic for a patient to be at County? Unless they had once been fired from the same hospital…No! Kerry told herself. You're reading too much into this. It's one woman, who lives in Chicago, always has done. You heard a tiny snippet of conversation. The woman didn't recognise you. Neither did the man. Why should they have anything to do with Kim? And why would Kim be here anyway?

Why indeed…if it was Kim, if Kim was at this hospital, well, what had happened? Hadn't Kerry flown all the way to New York to find out if something was wrong? Surely, she owed it to herself, and to Kim, to find out whether her old lover was actually here or not. But Kristy and her accompanying man had disappeared, and Kerry could hardly scour every room in the hospital. Not when an insistent vibration had just began in her side pocket…quickly grabbing a paper towel, Kerry rushed back downstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

7

It was 7p.m. Kerry had been working since 8a.m., with only her fifteen minute food-break around three to give her any time to herself. However, that didn't mean that her head hadn't had time for personal thoughts. Rather, she had been quite terrified that her busy brain might result in a patient injury. As the day went on, her thoughts only seemed to become ever more incessant. She had managed to bandage a teenager's injured arm without reminiscing about Kim's delicate wrists but had slipped into history when she asked Jerry to page 'Legaspi' instead of the latest inadequate Psyche doc – well, each and every psychiatrist seemed worthless to Kerry since her experience with Kim. At least Jerry didn't seem to recall Kim's existence, that could have been embarrassing. No! What was she thinking? This was exactly what got Kerry into trouble before, her refusal to acknowledge Kim as her lover. Jerry _should _remember. He would remember had Kerry cared enough to publicise the relationship at the time, rather than hide, and run, and keep on running.

Despite that slip of the tongue and her lingering thoughts, Kerry managed to make it through to 7p.m. relatively safe from the risk of immediate mental meltdown. However, winter darkness had now engulfed Chicago and the bars were not closed yet resulting in a temporary lull in the ER's general business. Kerry had only two patients; an old man, waiting on a bed upstairs and her teenage injured arm patient, who was continuously reporting new complaints to be investigated before the police were free to cart him off again. In a generous moment, Kerry had sent some of the junior docs off to grab dinner across the road so now she was merely sitting in the lounge updating the day's charts.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. Of course, the quiet that the nineteenth hour of the day provided her with had only concentrated her thoughts even more so on her lunchtime mystery. She had been replaying that conversation in her mind over and over, not to mention Kim's original phone call. The sight of Kim, wet haired and thick coated, was a constant image in the back of her mind. Hadn't Kim looked tired, worn-out, over-worked? Hadn't she sounded scared, anxious? And even so – what did that have to do with the presence of Kristy in the hospital? Could it be that Kim had been sacked – that she had feared for her future at first but finally used the opportunity as a justification to return to her past, to return to Kerry? No! This had to stop. Kerry was a doctor. Kerry was logical, sensible, rational. There was only one explanation to the events of the past few weeks.

Sighing deeply, Kerry pushed aside the day's charts and walked back out into the triage area. It was still quiet. Not a single patient waited in chairs, and Jerry had taken the opportunity for a forbidden doze. Normally Kerry would have been incensed at his laziness, her crutch would have been up straight away, and banging on the desk on which Jerry's forehead lay. Instead, she carefully leant around the bulky desk clerk so that she could reach the stuttering computer. Quickly checking that nobody was close, Kerry brought the hospital database up on screen. From there, she accessed the confidential patient records. Of course, the US medical system did take precautions against instances like this. Kerry couldn't merely type any name in, she had to know a patient's address, down to the zip code. Yet, the confidential system hadn't fully made allowances for cases like this; if Kerry knew an address, she could view a medical record. Sure, too many checks of one person's medical history would register and be investigated, but Kerry was confident that a senior doctor such as herself never arouse any suspicion, besides which, this would be her only check…it was special circumstances after all.

Hesitatingly, Kerry's fingers lightly typed Kim's New York address into the search engine. A brief second later, and Kim's personal details lay in front of her. Now should be the time for remembered morals, for last minute restraint, for her Hippocratic Oath to come into effect. But hadn't Kim called Kerry? Wasn't that justification enough for Kerry's illegal actions? After all, Kim had told Kerry she wanted to speak to her. If something was wrong, well, Kerry needed to know. No. Principles would not stop Kerry now.

Kim Legaspi.

DOB 5/4/1967

Known allergies: None.

"The police need you to sign out on 4 now; he's had every test under the sun"

No. Morals wouldn't stop Kerry, but Luka Kovac would.

Quickly, Kerry closed Kim's record and turned to face Luka.

"Pardon?"

"Your broken arm boy. Well no, he doesn't have a brain tumour, he doesn't have leukaemia, he doesn't have anaemia or meningitis or pneumonia or any other reason to stay in this hospital longer than he has already. Well, he does have a slight cough…but then, it's the season,"

"Oh,"

"You ok, Kerry?"

"Mmm, fine, fine. I'll just go sign him off now then,"

Rising quickly, before she could be detained by the freshly woken Jerry – "Where have my doughnuts gone? Did you eat them Doctor Weaver?", Kerry made her way to her no-longer patient. Ignoring the boy's protests and threats to call the hospital management – he had clearly been in this situation before – Kerry promptly signed the release forms and ensured the arresting police officer than handcuffs were perfectly safe.

Now she had one patient. And one friend upstairs in a cheap uncomfortable hospital bed. Yes, before Luka had disturbed her, Kerry had had time to see that much. Kim was booked into the hospital, today, just as in Kerry's own worst imaginings. There had been no point in trying to ignore the truth, when it had clearly confronted her today in the hospital canteen. Kim was here, Kim was ill and she needed Kerry's help.

"Luka,"

"Yes Chief?"

"You ok to man the ER for a while? Carter should be in soon."

"Sure, I don't even have any patients of my own, I'll page if a trauma comes in."

"Great, thanks, I just need to pop upstairs…paperwork, admin, you know," Luka nodded and Kerry smiled, "Page me" she instructed and then turned towards the lifts.

Like the ER, the lifts were empty, as was floor 5 of the hospital…

But room 502 would not be. That much Kerry was sure of. No, room 502 was occupied by Kim, her Kim, Kim as a patient. Kerry walked slowly towards the room. This was it. New York had been a mistake; clearly fate regarded this meeting as necessary. Why else would Kim be booked in to a Chicago hospital rather than a New York one? And Kim did want to see her, that much Kerry was sure of.

The room was right in front of her now. Kim was right in front of her now. Kerry raised a hand and tremblingly she tapped lightly on the closed door. No going back. There was no answer. Hesitatingly, Kerry started to push the door open; if Kim were ill, she might be sleeping lightly, but Kerry needed to stop making excuses to turn back. Until she had confronted her past, she couldn't be comfortable in her present.

The door swung open. An empty room greeted her. There were no signs of recent habitation, instead, the bed was cleanly made-up, air freshener had been sprayed, and the floor had been mopped. At least the cleaning staff were doing their job properly!

Kerry allowed the door to swing back shut again. A nurse's station sat at the opposite end of the hallway. Should she ask there? She started to approach the two chatting figures. Suddenly though, that annoying vibration started in her pocket. Damn it! Her resolve would have vanished by tomorrow, but she had to return to the ER now. Normally, a trauma invigorated her; she had an adrenaline rush of combined fear and energy. Riding back down to the ER, her only emotion was that of deflation though. The lift doors opened. Luka was standing by the desk.

"Luka?"

"Oh, Kerry,"

"You paged…where's the trauma?"

"No trauma, just, Sandy's here. She's waiting in the lounge…I, er, she said you finished at 7, so I thought you would want to know,"

"Oh." A pause, "Thanks,"

Kerry started in the direction of the lounge. Sandy, how sweet. Sandy used to meet her when they had first met, then through Kerry's pregnancy, until…No point thinking about that. Anyway, it had been a while since Sandy had walked Kerry home from work, but here she was now.

"Sandy,"

"Hi Kerry, I was passing nearby, so I thought we could travel back together…" a warm smile was etched on Sandy's tired face. The sight of it made Kerry smile too, "You promised me you'd start coming home on time! But I get here and a foreign guy tells me you're upstairs doing paperwork, Kerry!"

"Huh?" Kerry was confused for a moment, before she remembered what she had told Luka, "Oh, yes…sorry…I was about to leave, but, let's forget that. It's lovely that you're here."

"I phoned the new nanny. She put Henry on…he sounded happy, much as gurgles can tell you that!"

"That's good, he should be asleep now…"

"Yep, I thought we could get a bottle of wine on the way home, maybe even a video, it is a Friday after all!"

"That would be lovely!" Kerry grinned, suddenly truly happy, "But, aren't you on the weekend shift tomorrow?"

"Mmmm, but you're off, and that isn't often the case! There's not much threat of my falling asleep when a burning fire is raging two metres away…come on, I thought we could get something easy, silly…"

"Sure. Red wine and a film. Sounds like a date! Just let me get my coat…"

And so, Kerry spent a contended night with Sandy, with Kim only a distant thought at the back of her mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction based on the work and characters of Wells, Crichton/ The main characters are not my property and not original creations.

8

It was the morning-after-the-night-before, with all its usual characteristics: Kerry's brain seemed generally muffled, yet with a distinct sharp ache, and the sitting-room was a tip. Sandy had left for work early, hopefully not suffering quite so much as Kerry, and to make-up for her own drowsiness, Kerry had taken Henry for an early park stroll, to avoid having to participate in any more active forms of entertainment. Henry was now sleeping soundly and Kerry, after sacrificing her medical principles and swallowing a couple of paracetamol, had decided that her time could best be spent on some hospital budget plans. It certainly wasn't a fun use of her time-off work, but it was custom, and the tradition of bringing her work home with her had perhaps been what elevated Kerry into her current high position within the hospital hierarchy.

Twice, the phone rang. One time Mrs Lopez had hung-up as soon as Kerry informed her Sandy was out. The second phone call was from a harassed Frank, bluntly informing Kerry that the ER waiting time was up to eight hours, and that she really should come in if she was planning on finding any functioning medical equipment left by Monday; it seemed that the innocent apparatus was bearing the brunt of frustrated patients' anger.

"At least the doctors will still be alive and working then" Kerry retorted, determined that her dull but restful weekend would not be ruined.

"You're lucky you have an ex-cop here, I'm keeping them in order for now; I have a license to keep the peace"

"Oh for God's sake Frank, don't do anything stupid! Promise me!" But it was too late, there was a cracking on the phone and suddenly Malucci's voice could be heard in lieu of the trigger-happy ex-police officer.

"Chief? Chief? Seriously, man, if you don't get down here snappy I'm gonna have to come knock down your door!"

"Malu-" The sound of a scuffle breaking-out greeted Kerry, as the phone Malucci was holding dropped to the ground.

Sighing, Kerry continued with her work. She worried about the ER when she wasn't there although Sandy was always scolding her for her unnecessary anxieties. Yet, while in the past she would have dropped everything to go in and help, her new domestic life meant she always put Henry first, even if he was asleep and Kerry was planning the next financial year. At least she was at home. And at least she was near her baby, if he should wake-up and want her.

Malucci's last threat, was the reason why, when the doorbell chimed an hour later, Kerry rolled her eyes and hobbled towards the door expecting some sort of hospital pilgrim, pleading their case for Kerry to come in.

"Just a minute!" Kerry called as she paused to catch her reflection in the hall mirror; there was no way she wanted the likely rumour spread that the only reason she had refused to come in was her alcoholic state. Yet her early morning walk and multiple cups of coffee had washed-away any evidence of Friday night's drinking and her face merely exuded a healthy glow. Kerry proceeded to the door and swung it open gently.

"Now, if it's about the - "

Kerry froze.

"Hello Kerry"

"Kim?"


	9. Chapter 9

9

"What are you doing here?" An ironic twist on an earlier conversation.

"I'm sorry…may I come in?"

"Yes – yes, of course," Kerry moved backwards into the hall.

"Your face!" A warm but apologetic smile graced Kim's face as she observed Kerry's state: Kerry's face was awash with confusion. Her forehead was creased with concern, her mouth hung open with shock. The colour had drained from her face, leaving her skin eerily pale when compared to her bright red hair.

"You've, er, you've got- " Kim had come to a stop in front of Kerry, and thinking of nothing else to say, Kerry reached out and removed a leaf from Kim's wild curls.

"Oh, thank-you!" a gentle laugh came forth from Kim, "The winter weather…things are always getting tangled up up there!"

"Yes."

"Kerry?"

"Yes?" a clipped, strained tone.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No,"

"Oh, it's just you don't seem very…poly-syllabic," Kim said, smiling gently and inclining her head lightly to one side.

"Sorry…"

"Not at all! It's my fault really…I should have called beforehand. I can always come back…another time, perhaps?"

"No, no! I'm sorry. Come in!"

"Okay then, if that's ok with you," Kim raised an eyebrow questionably, for the door was still wide open and the winter wind was gushing in.

Trying hard for a smile, but managing only taut, stretched lips, Kerry gingerly stepped past Kim and heavily but affirmatively pushed the front door shut on the outside world. Now all that she knew was that she and the blond psychiatrist were standing a little too close, in a dimly-lit hallway with only the sound of a distant, ticking clock. Counting down, Kerry thought to herself. But to what?

Kim was the first to break the awkward scene. She took a step away from Kerry, at the same time moving a jerky hand through her hair, perhaps to disguise her movement. Kerry exhaled slowly, she realised she had been holding her breath up until this point. She didn't know where to look. In the narrow hallway, with Kim just a few feet from her, it suddenly seemed that her years of wishing Kim were near her could have been a little more specific - it was awkward to look upon that calm face from so close. The clear blue eyes that once-upon-a-time had spoken privately to Kerry, the fleshy lips that Kerry used to lovingly kiss, the thick blonde lashes that Kerry had gazed at in the early mornings when Kim was still in a dream world…Kim's face had once belonged to Kerry and now she felt like a stranger, like she had no right to look so closely, that she was intruding on something separate from her. She settled on staring at the floor.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed, but maybe it was just a few seconds before Kim's clear voice rescued Kerry from her paralysis.

"I'm freezing. You don't have any coffee, do you?"

Kerry was glad for this distraction. Kim had clearly recognised her confusion and had generously offered Kerry a chance to do something, to be useful, most of all, to have a minute to herself.

"Yes, yes, of course. Er…do you want to hang up your coat – just there" Kerry waited while Kim slipped out of the padded coat. As Kim's numbed hands fumbled with her buttons Kerry couldn't help wishing that she was helping Kim to shed her winter layers! "The living-room's just to the left…" She followed Kim into the homely room and motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa. "Sorry…let me clear this away", with fast movements Kerry scooped up her morning's work and deposited it in the hall: somehow the question of nurses' salaries wasn't quite the conversation-starter required. As Kerry cleared Kim's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the large fireplace and tasteful decorations. Kerry, returning into the room, noticed that Kim's gaze had fallen onto the baby monitor on the table. She chose not to raise the subject of Henry quite so soon.

"I'll just be in the kitchen, making coffee,"

"Thank-you,"

"You…just…make yourself at home," Kerry kicked herself as she walked out of the room. It was the wrong thing to say – of course it was! How stupid, how absolutely stupid could she be to utter a sentence like that after so many years. Home! The word sounded bitter in her head now. This was the home she had built with Sandy. This wasn't Kim's home. There was no chance of that.

As she played around with coffee beans and boiling kettle, Kerry tried to preoccupy herself in any way possible. But diversions were useless; Kim was sitting in her living-room, and soon she would have to converse with her – properly. Find out why it was Kim was here. Oh God! Kerry suddenly panicked. Was Kim dying? Was that it? The hospital stuff, and now this…had she come to say goodbye? But then why did she look so calm? It was all she could do to stop herself rushing into the living-room that very minute and pleading with Kim to tell her the horrible anticipated truth. She forced herself to stay calm though, to make the coffee, to stop being so silly. Of course Kim wasn't dying; not when she looked so great!

As Kerry entered the living-room the phone gave a sudden shrill ring. Kerry paused in her steps.

"It's alright, you can get it," Kim said.

"I, it's probably just the hospital." Kerry remarked, but all the same she felt herself moving towards it, placing the coffee down and answering. Another minute with which to procrastinate the inevitable, she thought to herself. Odd, after so many years hoping for contact and now you're doing everything you can to delay actual communication.

"Hi baby," it was Sandy's soft tones that greeted Kerry.

Kerry felt sick to her stomach with guilt. Why though? She wasn't doing anything wrong, but somehow, just having Kim in the same room as her was enough.

"Er, hi" It was a struggle for such simple words to come out of her mouth. She turned away from Kim and stared at the cream wall.

"I just wanted to check-up on you; you were still snoring away when I left this morning! Feeling okay, no hangover?"

"No."

"You okay sweetie, you sound clipped"

"Yeah. Everything's fine." She closed her eyes, "fine."

"Okay then. Oh, I'd better go. Break is almost over."

"Oh"

"Love you,"

"Yeah…bye" Luckily Sandy had clearly been distracted from her centre, or Kerry would not have got away with her end of the conversation. She turned off the phone and remained still for a few seconds before hurriedly replacing it in its cradle.

"Just the hospital," she told Kim, and was surprised at how easy the lie was, "Nothing important."

"That's good."

"Sorry – here's your coffee"

Kim took a small sip and smiled, "I can't believe you still remember,"

"What?"

"How I take it,"

Kim was right, Kerry realised. After so many years, Kerry hadn't even paused to think twice before adding skimmed milk and half a teaspoon of sugar. The realisation made her feel a little queasy.

"Don't worry," Kim had noticed Kerry's response, "I still drink rooibos…and I can make a mean Kerry Weaver risotto!"

Cautiously Kerry laughed. This was greeted by a sad smile from Kim and Kerry's queasiness returned. Before she could stop herself she had blurted out, "What's wrong? Why are you here? I mean…how are you?"

Kim gave a deep sigh, "I don't know quite where to begin Kerry. Sorry…this must be very awkward; I didn't mean to trouble you so much,"

Kerry shook her head energetically, "Kim," and her words came out as a whisper, "Kim you could never trouble me…ever." She felt the colour rising to her cheeks as she said this, and glanced towards her feet.

"Kerry…I'm ill."

One short, simple sentence and the truth was out. Kerry looked back up, horrified. Kim was now staring at the floor but she must have felt Kerry's shocked gaze because her head came up again and her clear blue eyes met Kerry's startled ones. But there was no further embellishment.

"What…what do you mean?"

"I don't want you to worry Kerry – I'm fine, honestly. I just thought you should know…I didn't want you to find out from somebody else, that's all,"

"Well what is it? What's wrong? What's happening?" Suddenly Kerry couldn't stop herself and all her confusion from the past weeks flooded out of her, "I knew! I knew there was something wrong. I...well I knew you were in County – I came, I came to see you but you were gone…"

Normally the two women would be embracing by now, Kerry thought bitterly, if they were anyone else. They would be close together on the same sofa. Kim would break the news gently, holding her hand, she would cry with the shock and then comfort Kim, they would hold each other and suffer together. But her history with Kim prevented this from happening. It would be too close, too personal. Instead they sat, separated by a coffee table, each with their own space, each with their own thoughts, suffering alone, quietly, internally.

"I know," Kim said gently, "I know you came. That's why I'm here now. I didn't think I could leave you with no explanation. I was in County to have a lumbar puncture. It was supposed to be an in and out job, but I got the headache so they kept me in for a couple of days, just bed rest and fluids; I'm fine"

"A lumbar puncture? Why?" Kerry's mind was in worst-case-scenario mode. Could it be leukaemia? Meningitis?

"I have MS Kerry. Well…it's not proven. The spinal tap was to help formalise the diagnosis."

Kerry said nothing. She could think of nothing to say.

"There's a great neurologist at County, Harry Lowell. I've been seeing him for a few months now. He's been incredibly helpful. I'm coming back to live in Chicago Kerry, where my family and friends are. They say you need a good support base."

"MS?"

"Yes."

"Well…how bad is it? Is it progressive?"

"I don't know yet, Kerry. It's in the relapsing remitting stage now. And hey, I'm a late developer, at the end of the age range, so maybe it'll stay that way. Maybe not."

"What symptoms do you have?"

"Oh I'm alright; no incontinence as of yet!"

"Don't."

"Pardon?"

"Don't joke...please"

"Sorry. Sometimes it's all I can do."

Kerry looked at Kim, her beautiful eyes…were they as clear as they appeared to be or was Kim experiencing blurred vision even now? And when Kim had taken off her coat…had that been hard for her, were his fingers growing clumsy? Was she secretly in pain? Kerry decided to ignore these questions for now and focus on Kim's other news.

"You're back in Chicago?"

"I will be soon,"

"Working at County?" If so, how could life ever be the same again?

"There are a few possibilities right now. No definite arrangements."

"But you will be working?"

"Of course. I won't let some physical problems distract me from understanding peoples' mental troubles! I hardly think Kerry Weaver needs a lowly Psychiatrist to quote statistics at her, but a lot of people with MS are still working, as you well know."

"Yes, but that's with the benign form,"

"Kerry…I can work now. I'm no less of a Psychiatrist because I have a crummy body. I've been hounded out of a job before because of my sexuality; it's not going to happen again because I'm ill. I didn't have the support I needed before. This time I'm making sure I have it. That's why I'm back in Chicago".

At this last remark Kerry felt her face growing red once again. She had hoped that Kim might have forgiven or forgotten Kerry's past involvement by now, but by the tone of Kim's voice past betrayals were still wrought with emotion.

"Kim you know I regret that! You know I'm sorry. I want to support you, now…how can I prove that to you?"

Kim looked coldly at Kerry, "For once this isn't about you Kerry. None of this has anything to do with you, not in the slightest. But living in Chicago and seeing a neurologist at County I decided it would be generous to just let you know what was happening in my life. That doesn't mean I want you involved. And it doesn't mean my private life has anything to do with you now."

Kerry was shocked. Kim had seemed gentle and open until now. Suddenly the new unknown world Kim had just opened up for Kerry was dramatically closing again.

"I'm sorry, Kim. I know this has nothing to do with me. Of course I do. I just want you to know that, that I'm here if ever you do need me. Things change. I've changed." An image of Henry popped into her mind as she said this. Henry, who she has forgotten until this moment. Henry, who was upstairs, sleeping in his cot. Who she should have woken and fed fifteen minutes ago. Henry, who she would continue to ignore as long as Kim was here.

Kim sighed. She seemed tired to Kerry as she ran a hand through her blonde curls. "Sorry…I didn't mean to snap. I swore to myself that I wouldn't get emotional when I came here today."

"Emotional?" Kerry's heart jumped. If Kim was still feeling emotional, then at least she wasn't completely indifferent to Kerry.

"I don't want to open myself up to this again Kerry, not today, not now. I can't deal with so much at once."

"Kim, I don't understand…open yourself up to what? To…friendship?"

Kim shook her head, smiling, "Kerry, you never were one to read signs, were you?"

"What do you mean?"

"That day…that day you came to me, in New York…I felt, seeing you, Kerry you have no idea what I felt that day."

"Tell me," Kerry whispered, looking intently at her ex-lover.

"I felt like years hadn't passed. I felt it was only days. I felt," Kim waved her arms wildly in the air, "I felt like I felt the day you saw me with Lori,"

There was a silence. And then Kerry broke it.

"How did you feel then?"

Kim sighed again, deeply. Her teeth played with her bottom lip, "Guilty."

The two women sat in silence together, each with her own thoughts, each avoiding the other's eyes. The revelation seemed to have irrevocably transformed their current interaction. If Kim had felt guilty when Kerry caught her with Lori, and again in New York, then that must mean that Kim still felt some responsibility to Kerry. That Kim felt connected to Kerry and accountable for her actions.

Kerry couldn't believe what was happening. She, the bureaucratic manager of the ER, the logical, sensible, rational one, who always had an answer for everything and always had an opinion, she, Kerry Weaver, was flailing in a world of emotion. And the only times this ever happened to her was when she was around Kimberly Legaspi: When she temporarily forgot to disguise her passion during patient consults in the ER; when she neglected to peer behind herself in the street before kissing those welcome lips; when she admitted fault in her dealings with patients and when she had no second thoughts before skipping work and flying all the way to New York. This was the only woman, the only human, whose plain presence forced Kerry to abandon her fears, her reason, her rules, and to follow her emotions. What a shame she hadn't been able to do so when it had really mattered.

"You know, we never really talked about that," Kerry shocked herself with these words, this reference to a past that she had always run from.

"That was rather the point," Kim laughed self-mockingly, "I guess I do owe you an explanation on that front…"

"No you don't."

"No, but…I'd like to explain." Kim paused and stared into her coffee. She hadn't taken a second sip since their conversation had started and Kerry was acutely aware of this fact. "Lori…she meant nothing to me Kerry. I, I don't know why I'm telling you this now. It won't do any good. But Lori…she was just some young thing that I used. I used her Kerry. I used her to help me get over you. It didn't work. I didn't feel any better after. Every moment with her I was wishing she was you. And, when you saw her, I felt guilty, but of course, I was too stubborn to admit it. To own up to the fact that I owed you more faithfulness than that, so soon after we had been together."

"But my letter…if you felt like that, why didn't you say so? You knew I would still have you back!"

"You wrote that letter before you saw Lori and I. I…I was an idiot Kerry – I suffered from the same predicament as you – illogical fear! I might have been fine with my sexuality, and being out but I was scared about truly opening up, about being completely honest and about facing rejection. It's stupid, I know, and I've regretted it for so many years. But I was still angry, and I was still hurting. I felt, at the time, that I was at least in control over one aspect of my life – you. I had no say over my job, and my future, but I could choose what to about you. And after having lost everything, well, I just wanted a new beginning. I didn't want to hold on to you, only to face losing you over and over again. I didn't want to come clean about my feelings when you might have just turned and run – _again_. That letter…it made me cry for days, but I could never be completely sure that it was true, that you would put your feelings into action. I didn't want to give you the chance. I didn't want to be hurt again. I thought you would have changed your mind after seeing Lori. And even though in my heart of hearts I knew that wasn't true, I just didn't want to open myself up to pain again, all over again." Kim hadn't looked up once during her confession. But the sound of Kerry's movement caused her to look up. Kerry had risen from her chair and come to crouch on the ground before Kim. She looked up into Kim's watery eyes.

"And now?" Kerry asked gently.

"And now…seeing you, in New York, I feel exactly the same way."

"Unable to bear the pain of a relationship?"

"In love."


	10. Chapter 10

Surprisingly Kerry didn't feel the shock she expected to. Instead it all felt quite understandable. If she had spent years remembering, unable to forget their shared moments, her love never truly diminishing, then why would it be that Kim would feel any differently about Kerry? After all, they had never had true closure. Their relationship had only just begun before it was ripped apart again. They had certainly both had time, and space, since the end of their relationship, but not together. Not the joint experience of saying goodbye to a past love.

"Kerry…?"

Kerry remained crouching on the floor, unable to articulate her feelings. For although Kerry embraced this new knowledge with simple human understanding, her reaction to the news did shock her. She expected to feel light-headed and fast-pulsed, but instead, she felt only numbness. Had this happened three years ago, two years ago, even eighteen months ago, she would have been delighted. But all at once and all too suddenly Kerry realised that whatever tricks her heart had been playing on her in recent weeks, her head still ruled. And that was what made her, emphatically, Doctor Kerry Weaver, Chief of the ER. She had responsibilities, she was a good woman, a woman with values and above all else, she was now a mother. And whatever she did she would not jeopardise the future of her little boy.

"Oh god!" The blonde psychiatrist clasped a hand to her mouth, "I've said too much, haven't I? I didn't mean to say all of that, not today, not with everything else!"

Kerry looked up at Kim silently, still unable to voice her thoughts, to out the truth. Funny, she thought, self-mockingly, when you were with Kim your relationship failed because you were unable to out yourself, now you're unable to be with her because you have a child with another woman.

"Kerry – please, say something!" There was a tone of pleading in Kim's voice which instantly caused a wave of guilt to run through Kerry's body. Reverting to humour as a defence mechanism, a trait that Kerry had noticed many patients adopt over the years, Kim added, "Or at least some hiccups might mean _some_thing."

"Kim – " It was hard enough for Kerry to even utter that one syllable; that name which had haunted her for years, besides explaining her situation. Suddenly, Kerry's body came alive again, as Kim's soft hand reached out and fell on Kerry's temple, gently massaging, "Kim…" Unable to stop herself, Kerry let out a soft moan of pleasure.

Having regained her composure a little, obviously helped by Kerry's encouraging response to contact, Kim finally asked the question Kerry was dreading, "And you? How do you feel?"

Realising that she couldn't prolong the inevitable, that she couldn't freeze time, much as she would love to, and sit here with Kim, with Henry asleep upstairs, for an eternity, Kerry finally forced herself to speak.

"Kim, there's something I have to tell you,"

Their eyes met. Equally sorrowful, only Kim's still maintained hope.

"What is it?"

But Kerry was saved from further expansion, for at that moment the baby monitor came alive and as lights flashed up and down its side, it perfectly relayed a freshly-woken Henry's cries into the intense atmosphere of the living-room.

Kim nodded silently as she pulled back her arm from Kerry's face. She hastily crossed her arms over her chest, a gesture of protection. Her eyes fell shut, the thin eyelids applying pressure over her sore, red eyes.

Saying nothing Kerry raised herself up to stand again. Her legs ached terribly but the pain seemed like nothing compared to that in her heart. Grabbing at her clutch she padded heavily to the door, and after looking back quickly, just once, at a still-frozen Kim, she made her way upstairs, leaning on the wall for extra support.

By the time she reached the top of the stairs, her head was heavy with the sheer exhaustion of the whole morning. She paused a minute to try and will away her feelings, and then walked on into her and Sandy's room.

Henry was now wailing, and Kerry felt horribly guilty as she leaned her crutch against the side of his cot and reached down to pick him up.

"Heeeeeey, little one," she whispered, "What's up, why you making such a fuss, eh?"

The little baby she loved so much so resembled Sandy, a fully-grown woman, that it sometimes scared Kerry. Just with the security of Kerry's loving grip, the child's cries soon subsided and his deep, dark eyes gazed up at Kerry in adoration.

"There, there, sweetie," Kerry whispered, stroking her son's nose until he let loose a happy gurgle, "Missing your mama?"

"He'd be a fool not to,"

Kerry turned round with shock, "Kim."

The tall, slim, blonde woman had internally altered in the five minutes Kerry had been away from her. She was standing up tall, and carried with her her usual self-pride and confidence.

Suddenly Kim stepped forwards, her body pushed up against Kerry; Henry, a small bulk between them. Kerry was innately aware of the softness of Kim's hands against her cheeks, before her head moved forward of its own accord and she was suddenly enveloped by a warm, wet rush as Kim's mouth collided with her own and she felt the tangy taste of Kim. It didn't last long before Kim withdrew, stepped backwards and smiled sadly, "Goodbye Kerry," she said, with a slight nod of her head.

Kerry, too shocked for words, was unable to respond. She stood, mouth still open, as Kim retreated from the room, and a minute later, the front door opened and closed again. Then, and only then, did Kerry turn, place Henry (much to his annoyance) back in his cot and then sink slowly to the ground.


	11. Chapter 11

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing"

"You seem...distant. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just tired." Kerry reached to her side and grabbed a plate, then immersed it in the hot, frothy water.

"I really ought to do the washing-up – it's only fair" Sandy commented, reaching into the sink for the plate but deliberately feeling for and stroking Kerry's hand as she did so.

Kerry pulled her hands quickly away and took a step backwards, away from the sink. "I don't think burnt food constitutes a good dinner. Just let me do the washing-up, okay?" There was a note of pleading to Kerry's voice, but also defensiveness. She grimaced as the words came out and the tone became apparent.

"Okay Miss Snappy. Clearly there's something on your mind. I'll be upstairs". Sandy stood still for a moment, waiting for something, anything from Kerry. When nothing offered itself she nodded and retreated from the kitchen.

Kerry had been remote ever since Sandy returned home from work. Sandy had been surprised to find that the heating was not on, that the rooms were all dark and that Kerry was sitting in Henry's dim room, staring out of the window. It wasn't a particularly pleasant welcome to come home to. When she commented on the cold, Kerry had been argumentative, claiming that she felt fine. Sandy was worried about Henry though and voiced her concern. This made Kerry really prickly. She declared that she always had Henry's best interests at heart and stalked off to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

During dinner Sandy had tried to lighten the atmosphere, joking about her day at work. She wondered if Kerry was still feeling the effects of last night's alcohol, but surely not by now? Kerry had smiled and responded to Sandy's stories, but in a way which seemed hesitant and forced. Kerry wasn't the world's best cook, but she wasn't one to burn food either. Something was up.

Sandy sighed. She and Kerry had an intense relationship. They certainly weren't a couple to pretend that problems didn't exist, and for that reason arguments could ensue. But the positive side of their passion was that things rarely remained secret, and they always made-up quickly after fighting. But this was something different. Something was clearly bothering Kerry but she felt unable to share. Sandy figured that silence was the biggest obstacle to any relationship going well. Kerry often bottled things up initially, but when pressed always seemed happy to have an opportunity to let loose on her feelings. Tonight was different though. What could have happened today?

Shaking her head, Sandy reached for a book. Kerry would share when she felt able to.


	12. Chapter 12

Waking up, Kerry realised what she felt. It was anger.

The day before she had been left feeling confused, weak and desirous. But that was gone now, replaced by cold-headed bitterness. How dare Kim walk into her life again, after so many years, and proceed to mess-up everything Kerry has spent years building. If she was honest with herself, it was possible that Kerry had led Kim on in the living-room, but that was understandable. They were alone. They hadn't shared the realities of their current lives. Why would Kim choose to impose herself on Kerry, sexually, romantically, when she realised that Kerry was now a mother, a woman with a family to look after and commit to? Kerry had chased Kim in the past, but had begrudgingly accepted Kim's defiance when she realised that a relationship wasn't going to happen. Surely Kim should also respect Kerry's situation?

The kiss had caused her to collapse. It brought such a rush of memories and feelings to her. Their first date. Their first kiss. Their every kiss, in fact. The feel of Kim's body. She felt guilty, dirty, as though she was cheating. And it was so much worse, because she wanted to experience it again.

When she finally raised herself from the floor, she gave Henry the attention he deserved before going downstairs to collect her work. She thought that figures and facts would be her only refuge, a sanitised world devoid of emotion. She hadn't been expecting Kim's last cruel joke. A note, addressed to her, left on the coffee table. A scrawled address, that was all. Nothing to give a sign of how Kim felt. No 'I'd love to meet the family', or 'In case you change your mind'. Kerry couldn't even be sure if Kim had written it before or after the kiss, in which case there was every possibility that the invitation had been withdrawn already. After all, the kiss had been accompanied by what seemed like a final 'goodbye'. Now the terms of that goodbye seemed shaky and Kerry wasn't sure what Kim intended by it.

The rest of the afternoon she'd been unable to work. She couldn't concentrate on anything but the voices screaming within her head: yearning; accusing; mournful; guilty. Even the handwriting on the note pulled at her heart strings. She tore it up, but only after repeated study. Eventually, her mind succumbed to a numbness and she shut herself away with Henry, trying to convince herself that this was the only life she could want.

Of course she wasn't very receptive to poor Sandy. She could see that Sandy was surprised by her behaviour, but much as she tried she just couldn't convince Sandy that everything was alright. This shocked Kerry; she always thought she was pretty good at hiding her feelings around others.

When she woke-up Sandy had already left for work, taking Henry with her to drop him off at the new nanny's. Alone, without the guilt of Henry's presence, Kerry was able to fully consider the implications of the day before. That was when she realised that what she was now feeling was anger. Kim's behaviour had been inappropriate. To kiss her with Henry right there! Surely Kim, within her professional capacity, was used to telling people that their whole lives were affected by repressed childhood memories. Henry was young, yes, but he was clearly responsive to the feelings of Kerry and Sandy. Kerry always thought he seemed a little bit more quiet and well-behaved when she was feeling grouchy herself, ridiculous as it might seem to people who had no close connection with him. Anyway, even if he was totally oblivious, it still wasn't fair to Kerry. Kim had a habit of forcing unwelcome kisses on people, but this one was completely unjustified.

Kerry was angry too, at Kim's evasiveness during their discussion. She had been open about her feelings for Kerry, but only insofar as to make Kerry confused without offering any suggestions as to how they could proceed. She'd shared the fact that she was ill, but seemed not to want to talk in detail about it. And when Kerry, rightfully, was curious about where Kim would be working, Kim had seemed incredibly reluctant to talk. That wasn't fair. There would be huge ramifications if Kim returned to County, and Kerry should surely get to put forward her case before any decision was made.

All in all, it seemed like Kim had deliberately confused matters. She had pretended that she was being kind to Kerry, by including her, keeping her informed. She had done this, though, without sharing any useful information. In addition, she had said goodbye, without telling Kerry what that parting really meant. If she was going to be a regular patient at the hospital, or worse, if she was to return to her old job, then that goodbye wouldn't be good enough. Kim might now have her closure, Kerry thought, but she's cracked open my comfortable world without showing me how to mend it again.

On the way into work, Kerry realised that she would have to contact Kim. It was the only way to ensure that she could get on with her life. Kim had appeared, and ever since, Kerry had been acting irrationally and irresponsibly. Her relationship with Sandy had been affected, and Kerry certainly didn't like keeping secrets. One final secret move would allow her to move on though. If she could confront Kim, explain her own actions, insist that nothing more could happen between them and agree to the boundaries of any future friendship or professional relationship, then surely she would stop feeling so confused and guilty. Once she understood how she felt about Kim, then she would be able to talk to Sandy about Kim's return without worrying that she would give herself away. That was silly. There was nothing to give away, was there? Well there certainly wouldn't be once she'd talked to Kim and avowed her own unavailability.

On arriving at work, Kerry discovered a frantic ER. The collapse of some rafters at a local Church had led to the entire congregation being brought in. Few were hurt, but they wanted to hear the sermon together, and support those with cuts and bruises. A school hockey match had led to a huge scuffle and all the players were complaining of various injuries, in the hope that they themselves would be excused. And a family of ten had been brought in with food poisoning, after a birthday celebration.

Kerry was kept busy for a good few hours, during which time she didn't think once of Kim or Sandy.

After a particularly messy incident with one of the food poison victims, Kerry retired to the lounge to grab a pair of scrubs. Her intent was to change quickly and return to the havoc outside. Entering the room, she discovered Luka at his locker.

"Hello Kerry"

"I'm just changing. Third time today. I forget how many washes I end-up doing when I'm working in the ER".

Luka smiled, "The water bill is worth it. I always know it will be a better day when you're on active duty". There was a pause, during which Luka tentatively took a step towards the messy doctor, "Er, Kerry?"

"Yes?" Something in Luka's tone suggested that the conversation would be a sensitive one. Kerry looked up, startled.

"I...ran into Doctor Legaspi recently". Kerry looked frowningly at Luka, wondering in what circumstances this meeting took place. "Well, she actually came down, to visit. She said she was, er, looking for you. Did she...find you?"

Kerry cleared her throat. She wasn't sure what she could tell Luka that would be an acceptable response. Eventually she opted for a taut "thank you for telling me", her voice coming out squeaky and strained.

"She mentioned, that she might be looking for work, perhaps". Luka understood instinctively that this was a difficult conversation for Kerry, but he felt that she needed to be informed. Kerry wasn't somebody with many friends at work, so he felt an additional duty to look out for her when he could. Now, he spoke haltingly, but gently, allowing Kerry time to take in the information.

"Oh".

Luka could see that Kerry wasn't in the mood for a long conversation. He'd imparted all of his knowledge to her and thought it best now to give her some time to compose herself.

"Well I'd better get back to work" Luka headed towards the door, but at the last moment turned around and faced Kerry again, "She seemed well, Kerry. It's been a long time. I don't think she bears you any ill feeling". With that he turned and left the room.

"No ill feeling" Kerry muttered quietly to herself. That may be true, but then the effects of her visit had hardly been harmless. And now to find out that Kim had been among her colleagues and subordinates, asking for Kerry. That would only lead to gossip. Kerry pursed her lips. This sorted it. She would have to find Kim, and talk to her. She would have to explain why the kiss was wrong, why it wouldn't happen again and why Kim taking a job at County would be a very bad decision.

Kim's address was etched into her mind. She quickly changed out of her new scrubs, and into her personal clothes. Then passing by triage, she bumped into Luka. "You can manage things by yourself for a few hours, can't you?" she barked, walking straight past him. She couldn't afford to be kept back, and escaping from the ER was hard at the best of times.

"Kerry?" Luka called after her, but it was too late. She'd exited into the cold winter sunshine.


End file.
